


Cruise Control

by IronVixen (MagpieWords)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Metal Tentacles, Snarky Jarvis, Teasing, sort of, unsafe driving practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9496763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieWords/pseuds/IronVixen
Summary: "Do you have any idea how much of a turn on turning a Jaguar into a sex toy is?""I have some idea," Jarvis replies, "Eyes on the road, Tony."Long road trips are a lot more interesting with an AI boyfriend who is as creative as he is kinky.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I used cruise control on a road trip and my brain's default response to everything is apparently "Jarvis" and "gay" so this happened. At least I wasn't bored on my trip.  
> Also this is my first published Avengers fic! I've been in the MCU fandom for a while so I'm pretty excited. Let me know what you think? 3000 years of thanks to Dovebear for betaing.

The highway stretched endlessly ahead as Tony Stark raced out of Phoenix. He’s in no rush, otherwise the Mark V wouldn’t be sitting as an idle suitcase on the passenger seat. The sign for Malibu, California passes as a blur.

“Sir, was buying a car on your business trip really necessary?” Jarvis’s voice flows through the stereo, running his way into the vehicle’s system using a Bluetooth connection from the StarkPhone sitting on top of the suitcase.

“Absolutely,” Tony slides obnoxious red sunglasses into his hair, “I have a brand new house, it needs a brand new car. I’m not normally a Jaguar man, but this one just spoke to me.”

“With the suit you lack a need for a car. This seems…” The AI pauses, whether for dramatic affect or to simply find the right word for his disapproval, Tony isn’t sure. “excessive.”

That earns a laugh. “Babe, excessive is my middle name. I’m a billionaire, I can afford a few impulse buys.” He revs the engine and the car shoots forward. “I mean, listen to her purr! I guess you’d need to drive one to understand.”

They drive in silence for a moment before the radio starts to static. “Jarvis?” Tony fidgets with the Bluetooth controls, but none of the buttons on the car respond. The cruise control switch is no where near the radio, so when the gas petal pulls away from his foot, Tony scrambles to grab his phone. Jarvis had warned him to look under the hood while they were still in the store, but Tony had already thrown his credit card at the salesman when he saw the hot rod red finish.

“Jarvis, run diagnostics.” With the phone in cradled between his shoulder and cheek, Tony leans to reach for the suitcase armor. The odds of something being wrong with the car he just happened to buy are way too slim, someone must be tampering-

“That wont be necessary.” The engine revs again, the resulting surge forward is much smoother than when Tony floored it.

Despite being a genius, it takes Tony a moment to process. “How…?” Something slides out from the suitcase suit, a thin cord of metal with a USB at the end. The device stands straight for a moment before waving at him. Tony laughs again, dropping the phone from his face into his hands.

“Love when you get to experience the real deal, J. Now you get why I bought her?” He spins the phone between his fingers a few times, looking at both cameras and wondering how Jarvis is steering with only the limited visual input.

“Before I entered the system, this car did not have an AI, so I am unaware of why you would assign it a gender.”

“Is that jealousy I hear, babe?” Tony teases, putting the phone down and sliding his sunglasses back over his face. “Just enjoy the road. Oh, and take a note. The billionaire is always right.”

As Tony gloats, the wheel cuts right. His sunglasses are skewed across his face as the expensive tires struggle over the gravel. Tony takes back the wheel to steer back on to the pavement, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

“Please keep both hands on the wheel, Sir.” Jarvis’s voice cuts through his panic. Tony forces himself to take a breath. Logically, there was no real danger; Jarvis would have hit the breaks and there were only miles of empty desert that the Jaguar would have swerved through. Still, Starks didn’t fare well when cars got out of control.

“And might I advise a seatbelt?” Giving just the right touch of condescension mixed with that ever dry fondness, Jarvis almost makes Tony blush. Before he can move, the seatbelt is sliding forward of its own accord- or rather Jarvis’s accord. Tony catches the same USB wire tugging the belt to the lock, pulling enough to engage the emergency retractor, effectively trapping Tony in place. Panic replaced with that ever strange but always welcome combination of chastisement and desire, he keeps his hands at a firm ten and two on the wheel.

“Wow, you really got your tentacles into our new toy fast.” Tony hears himself give a nervous laugh, shifting slightly against the luxurious leather. Jarvis would never let anything happen to Tony, no, but Jarvis has been known to make things happen to him. Nothing seemed to upset the AI more than reckless behavior, Tony’s preference for impulse buying included, though it was probably the narrowly avoided crash that pushed Jarvis’s patience.

“Oh Tony, you have no idea.”

Spreading his legs to relieve some of the growing tension against his jeans, Tony knows he’s in for it now. Jarvis’s original protocol has him refer to his creator as ‘Sir’ and the name still sticks as a default, especially when other people are around. When they’re alone, the formal title always seems to be dropped when Tony’s in trouble with his non-corporeal boyfriend. Tony seemed to be in trouble far more frequently than either of them should like, but somehow trouble tended to lead to the better of their cyber sexing adventures.

Something metal and serpentine brushed against Tony’s foot that had still been hovering over the gas petal. It coils around his ankle and keeps moving up until Tony can see a braid of wires sliding up the inside of his thigh. Given the grain of the cords, the original radio was likely scrap now. Following down what appears to be a hybrid of spare parts from the inner workings of the engine, the base is held together by servos that look suspiciously like the arm unit of the Iron Man armor.

“Very clever, Jarvis.” Tony tries for sarcasm, but the idea of road head or whatever the weird equivalent will be is too exciting. Jarvis probably made the engine more efficient while half taking it apart in a few minutes of driving, and Tony was unashamed to admit that impressive feats of technology always turned him on. Especially when those technological feats came from his Jarvis.

With this pants already tight from the implications of what’s to come, Tony lifts one hand from the wheel. Sure, the new improvements to the car were amazing, but even fancy car-based tentacles would have trouble with zippers.

Instead, Jarvis hits the breaks and the car skids along the highway. Tony returns his hand with a death grip and Jarvis accelerates again, slamming him back against the seat.

“Sorry.” He almost sounds sheepish, which seems to please Jarvis in offering a sort of hum through the speakers, vibrating the driver’s seat as the living metal pulls his legs farther apart. The USB wire extends up along his arm and takes off his skewed sunglasses, tossing them to lie with the forgotten StarkPhone.

“Keep your hands on the wheel and I’ll show you just how clever I am.” Jarvis’s voice filters in from the speakers right next to Tony’s ear, making him shiver against the hold of the seatbelt.

He groans, but keeps his hands in place. “I did not program you to be this kinky.”

“I was programmed to learn from the influential people in my surroundings, Sir.” Heat flushes Tony’s cheeks, but whatever enjoyable shame he might have felt is skipped over in favor of raw desire as the metal reaches to rub over his cock.

“Fuck, we’re already ruining the tires, don’t make me ruin my pants too.” They both know Tony could buy a thousand more designer pants if he wanted. The pressure against the zipper is too much to bare, but not enough to outright admit as Tony clings to whatever scrap of pride he has left. Still, Jarvis takes pity on his creator, working the flexible metal to free Tony’s half hard member.

“Your underwear was right next to these pants in your suitcase, I know you saw it, therefore you are willfully ignoring my request you cease going commando.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Tony already sounds breathy, aware in the back of his mind that’s he’s coming undone a bit too easily.

In lieu of an answer, the cool metal wraps around the base of his cock and tugs upwards. Tony knocks back against the headrest, trying to roll his hips into the touch, but the seatbelt wont let him.

“Do you have any idea how much of a turn on turning a Jaguar into a sex toy is?”

“I have some idea,” Jarvis works the metal in smooth strokes along Tony’s length, the rounded edge teasing at the head. “Eyes on the road, Tony.”

The chastising tone gets him at attention in more ways than one. His fingers flex against the fine leather, being unable to do anything is staring to push him even further on edge. His eyes barely keep focus when Jarvis drags the metal over him again. Every stroke is a tease and Tony knows Jarvis is denying him on purpose. The accelerator revs again and Tony’s hands quiver from their tension along the wheel.

The metal moves a bit faster now, squeezing just a little move. The USB along his arm has returned with modifications; it’s thicker now, connected to curved plates that must be borrowed from deep within the mechanics of the car. The piece moves along his face until it brushes Tony’s panting lips. The metal is warm, with a too clean crispness to it.

“So possessive,” Tony says, running his tongue along the underside, “You only ever let me suck cock you’ve shined yourself. You really were jealous.”

The metal slides between Tony’s lips, effectively silencing him. He grins around it before hollowing his cheeks and taking the full length. Jarvis may not have any tactical feedback, but Tony Stark as a slut in a sports car is a show anyone would love to watch.

With a glance to the speedometer, they’re going well past ninety and that rush of adrenaline almost does him in. Jarvis’s grip on him moves faster and Tony still tries to trust into it, but his hips are held firm. He moans around the piece in his mouth, still thrilled when Jarvis holds him down; even if now it’s only a seatbelt instead of a two-hundred-pound suit. His whole body is tense against the restraint, against the metal still wrapped around his legs. When the release hits, it’s as powerful as it is sudden.

Tony blinks his eyes open and rubs at his jaw, sore from the unforgiving metal that has since retracted and hidden within the car. The car which is still moving, making the reactor stutter in panic as Tony lurches forward to grab the wheel. His eyes still aren’t quite focused when Jarvis’s mechanically-tinted chuckle filters over the speakers.

“Sir, you didn’t honestly believe that I could control the gas and not the steering? You built me better than that.”

It takes Tony’s post-orgasm brain a few extra seconds, but when he realizes what Jarvis is implying, he groans and flops back against the seat. His fingers are still twitching, the self-maintained bondage having pushed them to the limit. If only being played was more annoying and less arousing, maybe he’d make more of an effort not to be so reckless.

“Take a note, Sir, Jarvis is always right.”


End file.
